


Blood of the Sun

by orphan_account



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, Barricade Day, Blood Drinking, Boys Kissing, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, First Kiss, Gen, Love Confessions, M/M, Vampire Bites, Vampires, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:39:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is a vampire in love with Enjolras, the brightest, purest human he's ever met, and he's not the only magical creature around. </p><p>Happy Halloween!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood of the Sun

The streets of Paris were often like this for Grantaire, under the moonlight when all he others like him in spirit came out.

Grantaire growled low in his throat as he swiftly put his would-be mugger in a hold, snarling and wrenching the knife from his grip. "What you take me for, a drunk? A sad soul like yours?"

"I'm sorry," gasped the man, struggling against Grantaire's surprising strength.

There was always a moment, when Grantaire had half a mind to let them go, but he pushed through it and sank his fangs into the man's neck, moaning softly at the taste of fresh blood in his mouth as he drank greedily, quenching his thirst.

What business did he, this creature, have in being in love with the sun? 

In every lifetime he had, Grantaire would chose a mortal or two to be his companions. He could be charming and kind, witty and knowledgable, be there for them until he had to leave, lest they notice he didn't age.

This life was the best so far. Even better, he had a couple vampire companions.

Students were always his favorites. There was something special about the social life of schools, and it turned out a fellow vampire by the name of Joly agreed. He was younger than Grantaire, a purely joyful person with a few eccentricities. Joly insisted that there were health benefits to hanging upside down like a bat and that certain kinds of blood were more nutritious than others. 

Joly had introduced Grantaire to a group of friends of his called Les Amis de l'ABC. Grantaire loved them all dearly, but none more than their leader, Enjolras. 

Enjolras's blood and heartbeat sang to Grantaire, made him fill with passion. Around him he was complete. He was human.

Grantaire adored him as he'd never adored a human before. Enjolras was so bright and pure, so perfect. He longed for him in every way.

But he was passionate for a fool's errand. A revolt. They said revolution, but a revolt was all it would be. Grantaire had been around long enough to know humanity never truly changed, and he voiced his doubts out of love. Enjolras didn't appreciate it, perhaps because Grantaire drank wine to stain his lips with grapes and wash away the blood.

Enjolras approached him after a meeting and Grantaire expected a rebuking, but was pleasantly surprised when Enjolras only looked at him with gentleness and curiosity. "Capital R."

"Yes?"

Enjolras settled into a chair at Grantaire's table and looked into the candle before facing Grantaire. "Joly drinks from a hip flask, and stays in the shadows. A boy named Marius that Courfeyrac introduced me to has been twenty three for centuries. And you, you're the same. I know you're a vampire."

"It's true." Anyone else and Grantaire would've taken them as prey, but it was okay for Enjolras to know. "Are you ashamed of me?"

"No." Enjolras was so beautiful in the candlelight that Grantaire wished he was human, so he could have that intimacy which only warm flesh could bring. "But you confuse me. You want no part in our revolution yet you come here daily."

"Out of love, not spite."

"Love? Of what?"

"You." 

Enjolras gave Grantaire a look and then slowly untied his cravat and opened his collar, exposing his pale neck. "Do you want me?"

Grantaire's thirst keened inside of him and he closed his eyes. "Enjolras, I-"

"Joly's human lovers enjoy being drank."

"I could not sully your purity."

Enjolras, to Grantaire's mortification and delight, straddled Grantaire and toyed with his hair. "I want it. I want to give life to you, to see you passionate and caring. To see you immersed in the world beyond your nightly games of cards and cat and mouse."

Grantaire laughed bitterly. "Not even your blood, an elixir of the gods, could do such a thing for me." He narrowed his eyes. "Surely there is something else here, although I cannot believe you desire me."

Enjolras cupped Grantaire's cheek and leaned close to him, so their lips nearly brushed. "I want to know all you know of the world, so I can convince you to see the good in it. I want my nights to be consumed by you and your art and stories and love. I offer myself to you out of love as well, love for a lonely friend from an even lonelier soul.

"I've never desired women or a night here and there with a man I don't know. I want to be with someone on a deeper level, and so do you."

Grantaire reverently held Enjolras around his waist. "Enjolras, I'm not worthy of your love. Not like this. Courfeyrac, Combeferre, Feuilly, any of them would suit you better. I don't want you to be hurt."

"They have mistresses. They are not immortal. I love them as well, but they are normal men. Simply put, they aren't you."

Enjolras's warmth was far more intoxicating than any alcohol the world could offer and Grantaire gave in to Enjolras's curiosity and yearning. "Alright, my love." Enjolras sighed and hummed as Grantaire nuzzled his neck, finally pressing his lips to Enjolras's soft skin and making Enjolras gasp and shift his hips. "Perhaps we should do this in private, if you're going to enjoy it so much."

"Yes. Yes, please."

"My place is close."

Enjolras let Grantaire escort him to his rooms, arm slung around his waist as they walked through the streets. Grantaire kissed Enjolras's cheek as they walked and his heart lifted at Enjolras's blush. "I'll protect you from anything that tries to harm you," promised Grantaire.

"Thank you."

Grantaire let Enjolras in and Enjolras was surprised to see a living area with books and art supplies all over. However, he guided Enjolras away into a bedroom, where he lit candles, lighting the room with warmth and softness. "Is this okay?"

"It's perfect." Enjolras moved to undress himself but stilled when Grantaire stood close.

"Let me." Grantaire tenderly kissed Enjolras, occupying his mouth and mind as he held Enjolras close to himself. He untucked Enjolras's shirt and slid it and his jacket to the floor, smiling against Enjolras when he opened his mouth with surprise, inviting Grantaire to deepen their kiss. He gently pushed Enjolras back onto his mattress and caressed his chest, pleased to hear Enjolras moan and to feel him arc into the touches.

He propped Enjolras up with pillows and kissed his neck, scraping his fangs against Enjolras's skin, too lightly to scratch or puncture but enough that Enjolras could feel it. "R," sighed Enjolras, his mouth open and panting as Grantaire kissed down his shoulder to his wrist. "Take me."

Grantaire held his wrist and kissed it again, Enjolras's heartbeat calling to him through his veins. "I won't take enough to damage you. I promise."

"I trust you. I love you."

Enjolras cried out and gasped as Grantaire bit into his flesh, the fangs finding his pulsing vessels and sinking into them. He sucked slowly at the blood pumping into his mouth as Enjolras moaned with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Their minds connected for a moment and Grantaire was filled with a passion he couldn't remember having, of looking out at people throughout time and feeling nothing but hope and love for them. For seeing humanity as unchanging in its capacity for good and being filled with a fiery pride.

Grantaire pulled away and wrapped Enjolras's wrist so the small wounds wouldn't bleed any more. He tucked Enjolras in with blankets and smoothed his hair, concerned for him. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Enjolras smiled dazedly. "For a few moments, I felt like we were one being. I could feel your past and the years you've lived. You could tell me so much, show me so much. And in all of it, I felt loved and adored."

"You are loved and adored."

Enjolras seemed more human, but no less extraordinary since Grantaire had drank from him. There were grey bags under his eyes and a sort of exhaustion about him, as though he'd seen too much in his short life. Grantaire reached out and caressed his cheek, now with a hand warmed by Enjolras's blood. "I'd never been kissed before," said Enjolras, blushing slightly. "It's lovely."

"It's an honor to kiss you."

Grantaire kissed him again and Enjolras hummed low in his throat. "I'm beginning to see why people pursue this so."

"Let me love and cherish you," whispered Grantaire. "I fear your hair will never turn silver. Please, while you're here, be the love of my life."

"I love you." Enjolras had never felt so at home and happy with someone. "Yes, I want you, for as long as we have together."

They became lovers in spirit, kissing and spending time intimately together. Grantaire would wash Enjolras's feet and drink from his ankle, or kiss him long and drink from his neck, moaning as he felt Enjolras's sex harden against his body. Enjolras only ever felt physically aroused during a blood drinking session, and Grantaire was more than willing to please his human lover until he was completely spent in the afterglow of being bitten. 

In the backdrop of their relationship, their friends provided lively entertainment.

Marius Pontmercy was a gorgeous vampire, with a severe but boyish face, soft hair, and all the graces of an injured duck. He still walked like an adolescent who was startled at being tall despite his century of living. His grandfather had kept him isolated in their miniature family coven and Marius was having a hard time adjusting to being outside. Courfeyrac, his room mate and blood host, thought Marius charming and endearing.

"Girls stare at me, Courfeyrac," muttered Marius with confusion. "Is it my hat?"

"Marius. Sweet child Marius. You are stunningly beautiful. If you didn't have a lady to love, I would gladly prove it to you."

Marius sighed. "She can never be mine, Courfeyrac. Not with what I am."

"Love will find a way, mon ami."

He wished he could believe Courfeyrac. Every night he and Cosette talked in her garden, sitting among the flowers and bushes in the perfumed moonlight. She never asked why he never came during the day, and he hoped she never would. 

Cosette talked about fashion and clothes, and Marius liked to listen because he had no clue what she was talking about. He then usually felt the need to talk about law, which was the only thing he read about aside from mushrooms, and Cosette politely listened with a smile. 

"I love you so dearly," mourned Marius. "But we cannot be."

"Why?" asked Cosette, hurt and sad.

Marius held her hand and kissed her cheek. "Do you not feel how cold I am?"

"You're a vampire."

"Yes."

Cosette scraped herself hard on a sharp rock and held out her hand with a droplet of blood on it. "Take this, please." Marius was startled but kissed her and sucked the drop from her skin, gasping at the sweet metallic taste. "See, Marius. I don't mind."

"I- I must go." 

The night of the barricades Grantaire drank deeply from Enjolras's neck, tears running down his face onto Enjolras's skin. "My love, please stay safe."

"I cannot." Enjolras kissed Grantaire's lips. "You know I would not be myself if I did not fight."

"I know."

"I have a matter to discuss with Joly." Enjolras walked over to Joly, who was leaning against the wall of the cafe with his umbrella to shield him more from the sun than the rain.

Grantaire found out that night that vampires were not the only creatures to lurk in the narrow alleys of Paris.

Werewolves. It really shouldn't have come as a surprise, since Bahorel was so burly. He was the first to transform, his body growing muscular and furry, able to bend bayonets and break rifle barrels in half. But even outside of Les Amis, there were wolves. The Thenardier pack, prowling the sewers.

Grantaire vowed to stay up and protect Enjolras but passed out asleep before dawn, the rain lulling him to sleep.

The vampires and werewolves to play dead if they were shot, so as to not give away what they were. It was unlikely the national guard would use silver or think to behead anyone, so they would be safe. Jehan was captured but didn't defend himself, letting his body be bound and shot, only with a cry of, "Long live the future!"

They fought as humans would by day, Eponine having been shot in wolf form and then leaving the barricade, murmuring something about love to Marius before leaving. 

Grantaire woke to silence, alarm coursing brought him. He felt as though he lived through the next moments in a dream before they happened, running to Enjolras with a cry, arriving only in time to see him pierced by eight bullets. 

A savage part of himself wished to kill the soldiers who killed his beloved but he only collapsed with grief. The guards left him, one even with sympathy, as Grantaire clutched Enjolras's body to himself and sobbed, a roar ripping out of his throat as he cried, Enjolras's cold body providing no comfort as the footsteps died away.

"You were right," said Enjolras softly, breathing once more. Grantaire bolted up with alarm to stare at Enjolras talking to him. "My hair will never turn silver."

"Enjolras!"

"I couldn't go on without you. Though I am certain I would be immortal in a sense anyway, as an idea since none of us are truly unique in the flow of history, I didn't want us to be apart. I had Joly turn me."

"Oh Enjolras." Grantaire wept and Enjolras held onto him, comforting him until he groaned in pain.

"Help me gets these bullets out of my body, the pain is incredible."

Grantaire laid him down and undressed Enjolras's torso. "I am a creature of death, of night. You shouldn't have done this to yourself."

"I love you, and I love myself. It isn't your blood or lack thereof, but your heart. You are pure of heart, and that's what matters." Enjolras winced slightly as he breathed out of habit. "Go get Combeferre, he ought to have tools to help you." 

"But-" Grantaire's eyes widened. "Has he been turned, too?"

"Yes. We all lived, R."

On the other side of Paris Marius woke up in bed with a werewolf standing beside him. He blearily opened his eyes and stared. "Who are you?"

They didn't reply, but gave him a cup of blood to drink. Marius downed it and felt strengthened again, realizing with a start that he'd been dragged through a sewer to safety, the memories vaguely floating in his mind. 

"Please, who are you?" he asked again.

The wolf transformed and Cosette stood by him with a smile. "I told you, I didn't mind. I knew you were a vampire all along."


End file.
